


Knowing

by desperationandgin



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fraser's Ridge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: A surprise for Claire turns into a quiet conversation in bed.





	Knowing

**Author's Note:**

> In looking to be sure I was at least _somewhat_ historically accurate in regards to Valentine's Day, I discovered that Colonists began exchanging handmade cards in the 1700s! There was obviously nothing so commercial, but by the 17th century, hand-made cards and lettered Valentine's messages were being written and exchanged. Shakespeare even mentions Valentine's Day in _Hamlet_! So, this may be taking some kind of liberty but it looks like there would be at least some basis for it being plausible Jamie would know what Valentine's Day even is. That being said, the 'holiday' is mentioned exactly one time but today is a good excuse to post some fluff :3

She can feel it, the moment he’s awake and watching her. Most mornings, like this one, she pretends to still be deeply asleep, keeping her breath steady and even so that he can have his fill of her. Some mornings he prays quietly in Gaelic and the low murmur of his voice does make her drift, the lilt of his words as good as a lullaby. Other mornings, the tips of his fingers glide feather lightly across the apple of her cheek and he whispers that he loves her, engulfing her in his arms and close to his heart. Those mornings, his fingers eventually relocate so that they glide through her curls until she finally ‘wakes’ and stretches languidly along the hard lines of his body.

Then there are the mornings like this one when he has to be up for one reason or another, not lingering in bed and leaving her to roll over into the warmth his body leaves behind. She can hear him, footfalls light as he moves around their cabin; adds logs to the waning fire to bring it back to life. Cracking an eye open, Claire watches him at their table, four eggs juggled in his hand, thickly cut slices of bread in the other. Before he can turn and catch her watching she closes her eyes again, smiling to herself as she pulls the quilt up higher over her shoulders. As she listens to him move she tries to guess what he’s doing. There’s a moment of soft clattering where she can practically sense him freezing and looking back to be sure he didn’t wake her as he grabbed a skillet. Four soft cracks come next, eggs being put into the pan before he moves over to the hearth and sets the eggs to fry.

From there, she does sleep, she must, because the next thing she’s aware of is Jamie kissing her forehead softly.

“Sassenach, open yer eyes.”

She stretches, letting out a soft breath and prying heavy lids open to look at him, smiling softly. “Jamie.” Wonderful smells assault her nose and she sits up a little on her elbows. “Did you cook?”

“Aye, I did. And ye can stay there,” he informs her, getting a pillow situated behind her back so that she’s propped and he can bring a plate to her in bed. She’s shown him how bread is sliced and cooked again ( _toasted_ , she’d called it), so along with eggs is the slightly browned bread, ham, and strawberries.

“Jamie, what….” Not that he doesn’t often dote on her, but breakfast in bed isn’t something they typically do in an effort to keep ants from their sheets.

“‘Tis Saint Valentine’s Day, Sassenach. I did no’ forget.”

As her face softens and heart aches, she realizes she did, though not completely. She remembered days ago and _then_ forgot. Still, for now, she indulges in breakfast for two with him, sharing quiet laughter and trading kisses for berries. But after breakfast is finished, Claire pulls him down into a kiss that’s less playful and more intention filled. “May I thank you?”

His lips curve against her own. “Did ye have somethin’ in particular in mind, _mo chridhe_?”

“Mmmm, that’s for me to know and you to find out,” she teases, pushing him up and urging him to reverse their positions so that he’s flat on his back. Leaning over him, her hair curtains them on one side as she grins and then leans down to kiss him deeply now, tongue gliding across his as her hips drop to make the lewd movements he loves so much. “You always come up with the most incredible ways to spoil me,” Claire murmurs, pressing her lips to his neck now.

Jamie’s hands move up and down her back slowly, pushing at her shift until she raises enough for him to lift it over her head and drop it to the bed beside them. “It’s no’ hard to come up with things I’d like to do for ye. Though I dinna think I’ll ever wait for a certain day to tell me when to do them.”

“When have you ever waited for a special occasion to spoil me rotten?” she asks with a laugh, pushing his shirt up and over his head now in return, hands moving up and down his chest. “You spoil me every day.”

“Do I?” he asks, the question filled with a little more surprise than he means for it to be.

“Do you truly not realize it, Jamie?” Claire asks in disbelief, going still as she looks at him.

“I’m no’ as concerned with wondering if ye ken how much I love ye, if that’s what yer askin’,” he adjusts. “But I still always wish I could give ye more.”

Looking at him as if he’s truly hopeless, Claire shakes her head. “Still a fool,” she murmurs before taking his hand and kissing the center of his palm tenderly. “I’ve told you before I don’t need anything else from you. You gave me a daughter, Jamie.” After a quiet lapse of silence, she adds: "Two of them.”

Swallowing thickly, Jamie reaches with his free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Ye deserve to never want for anythin’.”

“What else could I possibly want? I have you, and you built me a home. A home for _us_.”

“Ye gave up Brianna and Boston for me.”

Claire looks at him, truly speechless for a moment before shaking her head. “You gave up both of us. For twenty years, Jamie. You gave her an incredible life, you let me go and I became a doctor so that now I can help here, in this time, where I’m needed. How can you doubt it?” She pauses, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Do I tell you enough, Jamie?”

His reaction is an immediate frown of confusion. “What?”

“I know I don’t say the words often, that I love you, But I--”

“Claire, no.” He doesn’t even let her finish before pulling her down into a kiss that’s urgent and desperate. “Ye dinna have to say it.”

“I _should_.”

Jamie sits up now and pulls her with him so that she’s straddling his lap and his hands can lightly cradle her face. “ _Mo nighean donn_ , I ken it every time I…” He hesitates only so that he can kiss her again soundly and then press his forehead to hers. “When I see the scars on my hand, I ken it. The love ye poured into fixing no’ only my wounds but my verra soul as well. I ken it when ye slip yer arms behind me and kiss my shoulder at the end of the day. When ye keep me company as I do chores around the land. When I come home and there ye are on the porch, watching for me. As soon as ye see me yer face lights up wi’ so much joy I want to run to ye and bury my face in the side of yer neck. Claire, I _ken_ ye love me. So much that ye pretend to be asleep when I whisper to ye in the mornings.”

Shock is slowly replaced with quiet sheepishness. “You’ve known I was awake the entire time?”

“Ye’ve never been a strong liar, even when ye dinna speak. The way ye breathe is different when truly sleeping.”

“But you say those things anyway,” she points out, raising a hand so that her thumb can glide across his bottom lip softly.

Kissing that thumb, he smiles. “Aye. After twenty years apart, I realized there was no’ a thing I ever wanted to keep ye from hearing again. ‘Tis only easier when I let myself believe ye to be sleeping.”

Softly, Claire kisses him, speaking quietly against his lips. “I do love you, Jamie Fraser.” Slowly, her hips rock against his, gasping when he presses up in return.

Groaning softly at the warmth of her, Jamie nods, lips dragging across her shoulder now as his fingers glide down her sides. “I love ye, Claire Fraser.”

Raising her hips just enough, she sinks down so that he can thrust home, driving every thought out of her as they move together; a single heartbeat, two souls wound together around one another. Her head bends so that it tucks to the side of his neck, breathing him in as their bodies move in tandem. She clings to him, hands at his waist as she feels his move to rest just under her breasts at either side of her. “ _Jamie_.”

“I ken,” he replies, breathing ragged. Dropping his head, his lips press to her shoulder, repeating his words, that he knows, he promises he does, and he moves faster, harder into her even as one hand drifts between them to touch as he moves, wanting to feel her shatter against him.

He doesn’t have to wait long as her fingernails dig into his hips, a sharp cry echoing on the walls of their cabin. She loses her rhythm, everything fading into a frantic blur as she shudders and tightens, body enveloping his, losing herself to the pleasure and pressure and the way he clings to her. She feels him cant his hips up once, twice more before spilling into her, her name a groan on his lips. They eventually still, hands grasping for one another until he lays back against their pillows, taking her with him so that she can lay tucked against his chest.

“Do ye ken it, as well?”

Claire takes a moment, letting her heart slow a bit before raising her head to look at him, a smile soft on her face as her thumb glides across his chin.

“I do know it, Jamie.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read the books beyond _Dragon Fly in Amber_. I'm aware there's a scene (I think?) when Claire worries she doesn't tell him enough, that she loves him. I have no idea how similar this is, but I'm hoping it's plenty different!


End file.
